


Why Do I Remember

by MagicaDraconia16



Series: 2021 Bingos [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Azzano, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bucky Barnes Flash Bingo, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Surveillance, Tony Stark Bingo Mark IV, TropesAndFandoms21
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicaDraconia16/pseuds/MagicaDraconia16
Summary: Left behind in an old Hydra base when the rest of the team go chasing after the Winter Soldier, Tony Stark discovers he isn't the only person there. Although the Soldier doesn't know why he remembers the place. Tony can help with that.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark
Series: 2021 Bingos [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119095
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30
Collections: BBB Special Events, Bad Things Happen, Tony Stark Bingo Mark IV, Tropes and Fandoms 2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for:  
>  **Tropes and Fandoms 21:** _star square - Stranded_  
>  **Bad Things Happen Bingo:** _G1 - Captivity_  
>  **Tony Stark Bingo:** _A1 - Experience_  
>  **Bucky Barnes Flash Bingo Card #5:** _1 - Angst; 3 - Azzano; 4 - Flashback; 5 - image of Bucky in Romania_
> 
> Card Number: 4019 (TSB) | 005 (BBB)  
> Square Filled: A1 - Experience (TSB) | G1 - Captivity (BTH) | 5:1 - Angst (ch1), 3 - Azzano (ch2), 4 - Flashback (ch3), 5 - image of Bucky in Romania (ch4) (BBB)  
> Ship/Main Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark  
> Rating: Teen  
> Major Tags: Angst, flashbacks, Azzano, implied/referenced torture, post-CA:TWS, pre-CA:CW  
> Summary: As above

“Well, son of a bitch!”

Propping his hands on his hips in the age-old sign of indignation, Tony Stark stared into the sky at the fading black dot that was the back of the Avengers’ quinjet. Normally, aside from the hurt feelings regarding being forgotten about, it wouldn’t have mattered that the rest of his ‘team’ had apparently just gone off and left him behind.

But they’d been paying a visit to what rumours had said was a Hydra base, albeit one that was empty of personnel. Tony had been about to go and root around in the still functioning computer systems when Steve Rogers had insisted that he leave his armour behind to do so. Something about how there could still be Hydra minions hiding in the base and the clanking of the armour would deprive the Avengers of the element of surprise.

It had been a stupid argument, and Tony had wasted twenty minutes telling Rogers so. In the end, Rogers had informed him that either he went in without the armour, or he waited outside with the quinjet until they were _certain_ the base was cleared. Tony had rolled his eyes and given in, pointedly wondering out loud just what he was supposed to do if these hypothetical Hydra minions got the drop on _him_ while he was out of the armour.

Unsurprisingly, Rogers had not answered that.

So Tony had left the armour in stand-by mode on the quinjet while he, Rogers and Natasha Romanoff had entered the base. And then, while Tony was elbows deep in the guts of Hydra’s computers, newest Avenger member Sam Wilson had called in a sighting of the Winter Soldier.

Rogers and Romanoff had darted off like greyhounds released onto the track, and by the time Tony had managed to free himself and reach the outside of the base… the quinjet had gone.

With his armour still inside it.

“God _damn_ it!” he swore again. And he couldn’t call for help because he wasn’t wearing his watch, or carrying his phone, and thus had no way of contacting JARVIS. He’d come straight from New York in the armour, and thus hadn’t expected to _need_ another way of contacting anyone.

His only hope now was getting the Hydra systems to work so that he could contact JARVIS by hacking his own systems. Shaking his head – and hoping that Rogers and Romanoff had at _least_ managed to make sure the base _was_ actually empty – he turned around to head back inside.

And gave a very un-hero-like yelp of surprise when he discovered someone standing almost right behind him.

“Jesus!” he exclaimed, stumbling backwards. “Fucking— Where the _hell_ did you come from?!” Then, “Wait a minute,” he continued, suspiciously, squinting at the figure. The figure… who just so happened to be wearing black leather tac gear, sporting a shiny silver arm, and had their face obscured by a muzzle and goggles. “Oh, holy shit, you’re the Winter Soldier!”

Tony flailed. He would forever deny it to anyone who asked – though he doubted anyone would – but he, admittedly, flailed. His teammates had just gone haring off chasing the Winter Soldier, and yet the ghost of the assassin world was standing right in front of Tony.

Was… _not moving_ , right in front of Tony.

Tony frowned at him. “Not to encourage you or anything,” he began, “but aren’t you planning to kill me?”

The Winter Soldier tilted his head. “You are not my mission,” he said, flatly, in flawless Russian. Tony thanked God he spoke that particular language, otherwise he would have been screwed without JARVIS here to translate.

“Um, then can I ask… what _is_ your mission?” he asked. “Because if you _are_ going to kill someone then I’ll have to do my best to stop you, only, as you can see, I don’t have the suit with me right now – you know I’m Iron Man, yes? – so I’m quite a bit more squishier than I usually am and, well, you’re, apparently, at least as enhanced as Rogers is, so I feel that I wouldn’t come out on the winning side here, despite being a literal genius, and… Okay, why the hell aren’t you stopping me?!”

The Winter Soldier remained motionless this time. He didn’t seem to care that Tony had just rambled on at him. “You are not my mission,” he repeated, and then, he abruptly seemed to hunch in on himself. “I… have… no… mission,” he said, slowly, softly. Almost as if he didn’t believe it.

Tony wondered what his chances were of losing his arm if he reached out to pat the Winter Soldier on the shoulder. “Then, what are you doing here?” he asked.

The Soldier glanced cautiously around himself. “I…” he began, before pausing. He seemed to be struggling with something. “I—I think,” he tried again, “I think… I know this place.”

“Okay, that’s not too surprising,” Tony informed him. “I mean, this _was_ a Hydra base, and you’re obviously Hydra’s pet assassin, so—”

“No,” the Winter Soldier interrupted, giving a brisk shake of his head. He immediately hunched his shoulders even further afterwards, so Tony presumed that he hadn’t been allowed to contradict his superiors. “No, I… I _know_ this place. But the memories—” He shook his head again, as though hoping to jog something loose. “The memories don’t match,” he informed Tony, urgently. “I, I _disobey_ the handlers in them! They have me work with other men, on mundane tasks that the Soldier isn’t meant for! I… I _know_ those other men, but…” He trailed off again, and although Tony couldn’t see his face, he rather thought the Soldier was giving him a pleading look. “I see the man on the bridge. The one who was my mission. Why do I see him? He comes to take me away from Hydra – but I never left. _I never left!_ ” he abruptly screamed, right in Tony’s face.

Tony stumbled back another step, even as he felt the urge again to reach out and comfort the assassin who was quite obviously falling apart. The Soldier banged his fists against his temples, then clutched at his hair as he dropped to his knees. He keened, tugging at his hair as though attempting to pull out whatever he was seeing that was so troubling.

“Okay, okay, look,” Tony began, stretching out a hand towards the Soldier but not quite touching him. “There’s a computer system in this base. That should have records, right? Maybe there’ll be something in there that explains what you’re seeing. I could have a look through it for you?”

The other man froze. “You… would do this?” he asked in a hoarse whisper. “Why?”

“That—” Tony sighed. “—is a very good question. And unfortunately, I don’t have a good answer. Hell, I don’t even have a _bad_ answer. I just… You’re obviously struggling. Let me help, okay?”

The Winter Soldier thought it over for a long moment, until Tony began to wonder if he was going to accept, or just kill Tony and disappear into the shadows again. “Yes,” he said, eventually. “You can look.”

Tony tried not to sigh too obviously in relief. “Good. Okay, then,” he said, and clapped his hands together before gesturing towards the door back into the base. “After you, murder muffin.”

He wondered, if he could have seen the Winter Soldier’s expression at that moment, if it would have killed him.


	2. Chapter 2

In the end, Tony was the first one to enter the base. Traversing his way back down to where Hydra had stored their computer banks, he almost felt as though he was being followed by a duckling that had accidentally imprinted on him. If ducklings were around six feet tall and equipped with beaks sharp enough to cut him. Or stab him in the back.

(Okay, so the analogy sort of fell apart there, but it was the thought that counted!)

“Still recognising the place?” he asked over his shoulder as he led the way down a rickety metal staircase.

“Yes,” the Winter Soldier confirmed. “I should not be. I don’t know why I am. I am malfunctioning.”

Tony was not going to touch that statement with a hundred-foot pole. “Well, hopefully the computer will tell us something,” he said, and was never more thankful than that moment as they reached the server room. “So, as you can see, I had to leave in a bit of a rush when word came down that _someone_ —” He gave the Winter Soldier a playful glare. “—was heading _away_ from the premises.”

“Misdirection is easy,” the assassin said. “It is not hard to fool gullible people.”

“I—” Tony hesitated, and closed his mouth again. He felt like he should be defending his teammates – the Soldier had, after all, just basically called them stupid – but, equally, they had hared off after what was basically a flash of light and had left him here, without a suit for either transport home or protection. “No,” Tony conceded with a sigh. “I suppose it isn’t.” He went to seat himself on the low chair he’d been using before, and then realised that the Winter Soldier was still standing at attention in the doorway. “Um, right… You can… take a seat…?” he offered.

The Winter Soldier made no movement, although with the goggles on he could have been rolling his eyes continuously for all Tony knew. “The Winter Soldier is fine standing,” he said.

“Hmm.” Tony gave him a sideways look. “Well, no need to stand on ceremony on my account,” he said. “I may get a bit busy here, so don’t get offended if I ignore you. If you want to sit at some point, then you can do.” He turned back to the computer that had been half dismantled and picked his way through the wires to where he’d left off. “Now, let’s see…” he murmured.

Some unidentifiable amount of time later – but long enough that Tony’s back seized up when he tried to straighten – the computer whirred to life with a coughing groan. The fan hiccupped a cloud of dust out of itself before slowly beginning to spin. Tony threw his arms in the air and cheered. “We have lift-off!” he announced. “Right, then, Terminator, shouldn’t be long before I have access to any records still on here.”

There was no sound to indicate the other man had heard him, so Tony turned his head to look for him.

“Arrgghhh!”

And promptly fell off his chair as he discovered the assassin standing right behind him, yet again.

“Jesus!” he exclaimed – again. “Don’t _do_ that! I have a fucking _heart condition_ , you know!”

The Winter Soldier tilted his head. “Physical weakness is recorded,” he said.

Tony frowned at him. “That wasn’t… I didn’t… Look, just stop sneaking up on me, okay? Otherwise I’m going to make a fucking _cow bell_ and attach it to you.” Grumbling under his breath, he hoisted himself back up onto his chair, pointedly ramming it backwards into the Soldier’s shins until the other man backed away a pace.

It was only one measly pace, but at this point Tony would take what he could get.

“Just to make it quicker, don’t suppose you happen to have any passwords, do you?” he asked, turning back to the computer and flexing his fingers like a concert pianist warming up. “Not that I need them, but just on the off-chance so I don’t end up accidentally frying whatever info we need.”

“No,” the Winter Soldier said, brusquely.

Tony sighed. “Didn’t think so, but worth a shot,” he said. “Now, hush, I’ve got a system to hack. Er, but not _too_ hush,” he added, quickly. “Just… make at least a _bit_ of noise when you move.”

The Winter Soldier made no reply.

The system was a frustrating mix of old outdated and incredibly sophisticated. It took nearly an hour for Tony to get even any kind of basic information about the base. “Azzano,” he read out loud once he finally managed to find the base’s plans. He glanced over his shoulder at where the Winter Soldier had finally moved to crouch down against the far wall. “Does that ring any bells?”

The Winter Soldier hadn’t removed his goggles or mask, but the deep furrows Tony could see on his forehead showed that he was obviously scowling ferociously. “I… Yes,” he said, reaching up to press his fingers against his temple. “No.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Well, that was clarifying,” he grumbled. He turned back to the computer and began the hunt for the next lot of information. “Azzano… was a science lab,” he read, sitting back in surprise. “Looks like they did all kinds of experiments. What on earth were they trying to do?”

“Experiments,” the Winter Soldier suddenly said. “Zola. They… I… t-they had me strapped to a table. It _burnt_. Thought it was going to melt the flesh clean off my bones.” His head jerked. “Work. So much work. Not enough food, not enough water. Too many of us in too small a space. A cell.” He banged the heel of his hand against his forehead. “ _Why do I remember such things?_ ” he growled.

“Whoa, easy there!” Tony urged, leaving his chair to crouch in front of the other man. “Careful, don’t hurt yourself.” He gripped the Soldier’s wrist and attempted to tug his hand away from his face. The hand didn’t budge. “Jesus, someone ate their Wheaties this morning,” he muttered. “Don’t fight the memories; just let them play out. I’ll try and find out—Look, can I get rid of these?” he asked, tapping a finger on the goggles. “I’m sure they’re not helping you.”

The Soldier apparently seriously considered it before finally ducking his head so that Tony could access where the mask and goggles fastened at the back of his head. Thankfully, neither buckle was too complicated, and seconds later the man lifted his head again, the goggles and muzzle remaining in his hands.

Tony gaped at him. “Holy _shit_!” he mouthed. “Shit. _Shit!_ Oh, _fucking DAMN IT_!” he bellowed, bouncing to his feet and kicking out at the wall. The only thing that gained him was a flinch from the assassin and what he was fairly certain was a broken toe. He hobbled back to the chair and sank down onto it, hissing in pain as he lifted his foot to cradle it. “You’re James Barnes,” he said accusingly to the Winter Soldier. “You’re James bloody Buchanan _fucking_ Barnes, and you died falling off a train in 1945, so _how the fuck are you here and alive?_ ”

The man – James Buchanan Barnes; Captain America’s bestest best bud from the forties – stared at him, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. “I am the Winter Soldier,” he said, flatly. “The Fist of Hydra. Their Asset. Who is this ‘James bloody Buchanan fucking Barnes’?”

“Who—?” Tony threw his hands in the air in disbelief, then hissed and grabbed for his foot again. “ _You_ are James bloody Buchanan fucking Barnes; otherwise known as Bucky.” He peered at the Soldier, hoping for a spark of recognition towards _that_ name at least, but Barnes merely blinked once at him. “Fine,” he grumbled, and turned back towards the computer, gingerly putting his foot back down to the floor. “Let’s just see what Hydra’s records have to say about you, then.”


	3. Chapter 3

It turned out that Hydra’s records had _a_ _lot_ to say when it came to one James Buchanan Barnes. And none of it was very pleasant.

“Jesus, those sick fucks,” Tony gasped out, turning hastily away from the computer and closing his eyes, fighting the urge to throw up. Unfortunately, that just made the image of the last picture he’d seen dance behind his eyelids, and he gagged as he hastily opened them again. “I mean, I already knew they were sick fucks because, hello, _Hydra_ , but this is just… Yikes.”

Barnes stared at him from his position by the wall. He hadn’t moved an inch, and hadn’t said anything as Tony had found file after file on the atrocities Hydra had done to him, although he had given a slight wince when Tony had stumbled across a picture of what looked like a demented dentist’s chair. “I was here,” he stated. “I should not remember, as I have never been here, but I was.” He frowned slightly. “The memories are wrong. I require recalibration.”

Tony shuddered. “I have no idea what exactly ‘recalibration’ entails, but you are not a machine, and you _don’t_ need it. Because your memories aren’t wrong,” he informed Barnes. “The Winter Soldier was never sent back here, but _James Barnes_ was held here for a period of several weeks in 1943. That’s when they gave you your version of the super soldier serum.”

Barnes tilted his head. “Held here,” he repeated. “I—” His face twitched as he fought whatever emotion was trying to break free. “I was… held prisoner. Zola.” Anger clearly won out, and Barnes gave a snarl of rage. “ _You are to be the new fist of Hydra_ ,” he spat, obviously quoting. “ _You will change the world._ ”

“Well, they weren’t… _entirely_ wrong,” Tony conceded, recalling the list of missions – of _assassinations_ – that he’d briefly scrolled through. A lot of good people on that list, ones who could have prevented Hydra from getting their sticky tentacles into whatever they wanted, and even more people who were probably nobody except to their loved ones.

“I was not the first,” said Barnes, hoarsely. “There were… others before me. Others who were defective. The programming did not take. They malfunctioned. They…”

“Died,” said Tony, gently. “I’m sorry, Barnes, but you’re right. You weren’t the only one experimented on; you were just the only one they succeeded with.”

“Screams. Screaming and screaming and _I won’t tell you_ and _let me go_.” Barnes was obviously off in his own head now, apparently remembering seventy years prior. “Hunger and cold and _blood_ and _we’re never getting out of here_ and—” He paused, cocked his head like a confused puppy, and frowned. “And Captain America,” he continued, sounding doubtful. “But… not. _Shouldn’t_ be Captain America. Should be… smaller. Why…?” He blinked and turned an inquisitive gaze on Tony. “The man was on the bridge. Why do I know him?”

Tony winced and wheeled himself across the room to carefully pat Barnes on the shoulder. “Because Captain America was Steve Rogers, your best friend,” he replied. “You grew up together in Brooklyn. Spent almost three decades running around and causing havoc with each other.”

“Steve Rogers,” Barnes mused. He paused. “Steve.” A longer pause. “ _Stevie_.” His eyes abruptly went wide and wild. Tony jerked his hand back, just in case Barnes was going to burst into destructive action. “Stevie… Can’t be Stevie,” Barnes informed him, his breathing ragged. “Stevie’s dead. They… they _told_ me; Stevie’s _dead_. His plane—”

“Went down in the Arctic,” finished Tony. “He existed as a Capsicle for seventy years; was fished out and defrosted a couple of years back.”

Too many expressions to keep track of ripple over Barnes’ face, and Tony wondered if he was even able to decipher his own feelings. Then he remembered that Barnes had spent the last fifty years as an unemotional weapon and figured probably not.

Though _fear_ was probably a biggie.

“I—I—I d-don’t,” Barnes stuttered, and began hyperventilating. “I-I d-don’t, I _c-c-can’t_ ,” he gasped.

“Easy, easy there, Freezer Pop,” murmured Tony, and reached out again, making certain to telegraph his every movement so that he didn’t startle the panicking Winter Soldier. Barnes still jerked sideways and almost fell over when Tony touched his shoulder. He rounded on Tony, eyes wide and wet and wild, teeth bared in a ferocious snarl.

Tony hastily backed off, hands held up to prove he was weaponless.

Barnes seized his opportunity, and was up and out of the door before Tony’s brain even registered the movement.

“Well, shit,” he sighed, staring round the empty room as though Barnes might suddenly materialise back in it as abruptly as he’d left. “Cap is _not_ going to be happy about this.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Two years later_

“I have a visual, Boss,” FRIDAY said softly into Tony’s ear.

“Good. How long did it take you to locate him again this time?” Tony wondered, absently taking a sip from the mug of coffee he held.

“I’m afraid it took me six weeks.” FRIDAY sounded stiff, and vaguely apologetic. But also more than slightly miffed.

Tony raised the mug towards the nearest workshop camera in a toast. “Getting better,” he pointed out. “Took you nine months the first time.”

FRIDAY gave the AI equivalent of a haughty sniff. “Well, he _has_ had more practice, Boss,” she said. “Do you want to see him?”

“That’s creepy,” said Tony. “Creepy and border-line stalkerish, but sure, bring it up on-screen.”

A holographic screen popped up into being in front of him, granting Tony an overhead view of a bustling marketplace. The view zoomed in, and then swapped angles and zoomed in again, until it froze on the image of a young man in a baseball cap and thick brown jacket, conversing with someone standing behind a fruit stall. He was holding several plums in his right hand, his left awkwardly tucked into the jacket’s pocket.

He looked, Tony decided, a great deal more like _Bucky Barnes_ than the Winter Soldier.

“He certainly looks better than the last time we found him,” he said to FRIDAY. “He found somewhere to stay?” The last time they’d found traces of Barnes, the man had been living rough on the streets and had looked absolutely terrible.

“Yes, Boss,” FRIDAY replied. “He is currently in Romania, renting a studio apartment. He appears to do odd jobs occasionally but doesn’t otherwise venture out anywhere other than this market.”

“Good, good.” Tony drained the rest of his coffee and got to his feet, groaning. “I’ve got a demo at MIT to attend. Keep an eye on him, will you, FRI?”

“Sure thing, Boss,” FRIDAY agreed, cheerfully, as Tony strode out of the workshop.

The holoscreen continued to show the Winter Soldier for another minute before finally going dark and winking out of existence. 


End file.
